


Walking the Dog(s)

by impulserun



Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:33:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3986731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impulserun/pseuds/impulserun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m usually good with animals,” Octavius says sadly. “It’s like Dexter just hates me or something.”<br/>“To be fair, I’m pretty sure that dog hates everyone,” Jedediah points out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For reference, see [this post](http://delusionsofgrandr.tumblr.com/post/119521320404/okaaay-modern-human-au-where-amelia-has-a) on tumblr. (Also, that's my blog! Hello, world.)

“Please?” Amelia begs.

“What,” says Jedediah, blinking in alarm. “ _No_.”

“It’ll only be for a month, I swear! All you have to do is take Able to the dog park and back every evening! I just need to finish this –”

*

“– paper for Mr. Daley’s General History module,” Ahkmenrah continues, easily keeping pace with Octavius even as the grumpy literature student makes a break for the bus stop. Stupid tall Egyptians and their stupid long legs. “It’s due at the end of the month, I promise that’s all you need to do.”

“Are you insane? We both know that Dexter hates me.” Which, you know, is true. Ahkmenrah brought him home from his parents’ place once he learnt their lease allowed pets. The pest peed all over Octavius’ bag and ate two of his best shoes.

“Aw, Oct, that’s not true –”

*

“– Able _loves_ you!” she cries, wringing her hands. “He’s always so happy to see you when you visit – I would ask Florence, but she has a competition coming up that’ll take her out of the district every other week, and I couldn’t possibly –”

“I know, I know – but I’m just not good with dogs, alright?” With a sigh, Jedediah averts his gaze from his neighbour’s wide green eyes. Is Amelia making her lower lip wibble now? That must take some serious acting chops. “You know I’ve always been more of a –”

*

“– cat person,” Octavius finishes, squinting through his glasses at the traffic light display. Has it always taken this long to turn green? “It’s like Dexter can smell the cat on me or something.”

Ahkmenrah makes a hysterical kitten noise. It’s kind of funny, actually. And cute. Octavius might have laughed if his long time flatmate and childhood companion didn’t have such a devastated look on his face. “Octavius, _please_. I’ve asked just about everyone else. I even tried sending him home for the month, but my parents are going back to Egypt for a business deal, and Kah’s deathly afraid of dogs. You’re my only hope.”

*

The bell chimes once, softly, before the doors whir open.

“Alright, alright, _fine_ ,” Jedediah huffs, stepping out of the lift onto their floor. “But you owe me, Ames. Big time.”

The effect is almost instantaneous. Amelia brightens up immediately, a small, triumphant grin blossoming on her face. Even her red curls seem to perk up.

“I’ll buy your coffee every day for a month,” she promises, stepping past him as he fumbles for his keys. “And breakfast pastries! From that café on campus. Your favourites.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jedediah grumbles, and closes his door behind him. A month of dog-walking, huh? Shouldn’t be that hard, he thinks. After all, what could possibly happen?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have never had a dog, nor have I ever been to a dog park. In the context of this fic, Octavius probably hasn't either. So yeah. Don't try this at home, kids.

Two days of Able-walking pass by without much fanfare. The brown Irish Setter is energetic and friendly, if somewhat excitable, but he responds well to orders; Amelia has trained him well. Okay, he admits somewhat begrudgingly, maybe this isn’t so bad after all. It’s calming, in a sense, having this affectionate young pup bound at his heels and demand belly rubs and cuddles. He could get used to this.

Then, on the third day, Jedediah meets The Man.

The Man is tall, though perhaps a few inches shorter than Jed is, with wavy black hair that curls ever so slightly at the nape of his neck, and dark eyes that seem almost black from this distance, though he’s fairly certain they’re some shade of brown. There’s an olive tint to his pale skin, and a maroon scarf wrapped around his neck. Possibly the only person alive in hipster glasses and an argyle sweater that Jedediah has ever found attractive.

He is also being dragged through the grass by a miniature hellhound-on-a-leash.

“I am so sorry!” The man yells, ducking his head in apology at the sniffling girl whose ice cream cone was just knocked out of her hands. “So sorry, truly I am – Dexter, heel! Sit! _Anything_!”

‘Dexter’ is content to bark wildly, wagging his stubby little tail in triumph as he bounds over the grassy fields, dragging the hapless man behind him.

“Dexter, heel, _please_!” the man shouts again, desperation flickering in his eyes. The ends of his scarf flutter in the wind behind him. “Come on, at least let me take off your leash!”

The dachshund just runs faster, ears flopping eagerly in the wind.

Jedediah takes a moment to check that, _yes_ , Able has _not_ been savaged by that friendly Doberman currently sniffing at his ass, before setting off in the man’s – Maroon Scarf, he dubs him – direction. He has a niggling feeling that something’s about to go wrong, and damn it, he feels bad for this fella.

Doesn’t take long for his premonition to come true, either. It all happens in slow-mo; one moment Maroon Scarf is looking over his shoulder to yell more apologies at the couple he just ran through, the next he’s run right smack into a low-hanging branch of a tree. He watches in fascinated horror as his grip slackens and the monster’s leash slips free, then instinct kicks in and he dashes forward to –

Catch him in his arms.

Now, if Jedediah were a novelist, he’d probably be able to find the words for this jittery feeling in his bones, the tingling sensation that starts in his fingers, swoops up his arms, and settles in his stomach. But he isn’t, and all he has is the quiet, breath-stealing certainty that something tenuous and _real_ is taking place.

“Hey, pal, you alright?” he asks, bracing the dazed man by the shoulders.

“Oh, hello,” he says fuzzily, blinking disoriented brown eyes. Jedediah’s traitorous brain begins to draw up comparisons to startled fawns, before stopping and remembering to check for signs of concussion. Fawns, really? He’s been spending too much time with that Lancelot fella. “Your eyes are very blue.”

Yep, he decides. Definitely concussed.

“Hey, can you tell me your name?” he says instead, trying and failing not to find the way Maroon Scarf is squinting at him adorable. “You hit that tree pretty hard over there – are you okay?”

“’M Octavius,” says Octavius, who is just beginning to realise the hell he has unleashed on the park, if the dawning look of horror on his face is anything to go by. “Octavius Gaiussss _ooooooh hell_ , Dexter _no_ , come back!”

Jedediah doesn’t understand doggy-talk, but he’s fairly certain that answering bark was a _fuck you_.

Frantic, he makes to get to his feet; Jedediah stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Look, Octavius, right?” He waits for acknowledgment before pressing on. “Look pal, you just ran face-first into a tree branch. I’m no doctor, but I really don’t think you should be on your feet just yet.”

“But –” Octavius protests. He promptly proceeds to swoon halfway out of Jedediah’s arms, so really, his worry is justified here.

“Don’t you worry now,” he promises him. “You just sit tight and let ol’ Jedediah here handle your doggy issues.”

*

That’s the story of how Jedediah meets Octavius and the hellhound of a dachshund called Dexter. They’re not always at the park at the same time, but on the days that they _are_ , he finds himself seeking out the other man’s presence more often than not. It’s only because Octavius needs his help to get Dexter under control. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Okay, so he finds the man attractive. And he has a nice voice. And a nice smile. And a nice ass. And he likes talking to the guy. So what? So _what_? Nothing’s going to come of it, he thinks. Hell, he doesn’t even know if Octavius is into guys at all. But none of that matters, because Octavius. Is. A. Friend. And friends are nice. Friends are great! It’d be great to have someone else to hang out with, other than the Film Studies kids, and that swot Lancelot from the Theatre Studies faculty.

Alright!

 _Fine_!

He has a crush on the guy! Is that so wrong?

He makes a note to himself to pick up some treats for Able when he next sees a pet store; if he’s going to keep using the pup as an excuse to see Octavius more, then he damn well deserves a reward.

“Having fun walking Able, are you?” Amelia teases, the third afternoon in a row he turns up for dog-walking duties earlier than scheduled. Her red hair is done up in a messy bun and pulled away from her face with an old black hairband. He recognises it, even; she’d worn it throughout finals week last year.

“Maybe I just like having a break from my own stack of homework.”

As per usual, his neighbour doesn’t buy into any of his bullshit.

“Oooh, look at that smile!” she declares, leaning back against her sturdy oak doorway. Her face, scrubbed clean of the day’s make-up, lights up with mischief. “Let me guess, you’ve met a girl? No, wait, a guy.”

“Aw, shut it, Amelia,” he replies good-naturedly, bending down to scratch Able behind an ear. The dog whines in satisfaction and flops over on his back, demanding a belly-rub.

“Oh, but you have, haven’t you?” Amelia gasps in mock offense, mirth sparkling all the while in her lake-green eyes. “Jedediah S. Smith, are you using my dog to pick up men? The _audacity_! I never would have expected it from you.”

Jedediah just rolls his eyes.

“Look, it’s nothing, alright? We’re just friends.” He shrugs noncommittally, affecting a mask of artless composure. “Besides, it would never work out – he has a dog, I’m a cat person, his dachshund is probably Satan in disguise –”

“But you like him?”

To his credit, Jedediah manages to maintain eye contact for all of three seconds before looking away.

“Yeah,” he admits. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then I say go for it,” Amelia nods. “Anyone who can make you smile like that? Is someone worth keeping. Now scram. I have a paper to write.”

*

“I’m usually good with animals,” Octavius says sadly, the next time time they meet. “It’s like Dexter just hates me or something.”

As if to prove his point, a squirrel runs up to sniff at his pants and curl into a ball at his feet. _Seriously_. The man’s like a fucking Disney Princess.

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure that dog hates everyone,” Jedediah points out. Somewhere off in the distance, the devious dachshund is probably stoking the flames of doggy rebellion in preparation for the canine June Uprising as they speak.

Octavius deflates even more, which only serves to make him feel worse.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he adds hastily, “I mean, we can’t all be Dr. Dolittle’s, right?”

Octavius stares at him blankly.

He tries again. “Eliza Thornberry? That monkey guy in Captain Planet?”

They go on like this for a while, before he finally gives up on finding a reference his friend might understand. “Someone who can talk to animals,” he sighs, defeated.

Understanding dawns. “Oh, you mean like Melampus,” he says, and ducks his head in embarrassment. Jedediah watches as his cheeks turn pink and his glasses slide down his nose, and tries not to be hideously charmed.

“Sorry,” he mutters, still staring at the grass beneath them. “I’ve never been very up-to-date with pop culture. My parents didn’t approve of cartoons and comics, and I never really got into them in the end?”

“What, really?” He lets out a huff of a laugh, not missing the way Octavius’ brown eyes flit briefly to his mouth before darting back down. “Man, you have no idea what you’re missing out on.”

Something shifts, and suddenly he’s hyperaware of the way Octavius’ breathing has slowed, the way his tongue flicks out to wet his lips, the way he hugs his knees to his chest. The soft light in his warm chocolatey eyes, the way his fringe peeks out from his beanie, the faint scent of wet grass and dew that lingers in the air. Something sparks, and _burns_ , and crackles to life.

“Maybe you could show me,” the shorter man murmurs, and Jedediah thinks, ‘ _oh_.’

“Yeah,” he whispers, leaning in ever so slightly. “Maybe I could.”

For that brief half-second, there’s something intense and immutable in Octavius’ dark, dark eyes. It lures him in, draws him closer, he feels his heartbeat quicken –

Off in the distance, Able whines.

Dexter yips.

Octavius turns.

Jedediah has the fortune of seeing his eyes widen in alarm.

“Oh my _god_ , Dexter what _are you doing to that poor poodle_?!”

Jedediah curses silently as he gets to his feet. Yep. He _definitely_ hates that dog.


	3. Chapter 3

Things most definitely aren’t awkward after their almost not-kiss. Yep. They most definitely are not.

Aw, who is he kidding?

They are.

*

“This is all your fault, Ahk,” Octavius moans from underneath his pillow. This is it. This is his new state of being now. At least his pillow won’t let him down. “If that demon dog of yours hadn’t interrupted us –”

“I’ll have you know that that ‘demon dog’ is the entire reason you met this person in the first place,” Ahk sniffs, pretending to turn up his nose. “And Dexter is a perfect angel when he wants to be, thank you very much.”

Said ‘perfect angel’ is currently in doggy time-out for ripping Octavius’ essay on Macbeth to pieces. Honestly. What is _with_ that dog? Just for good measure, Octavius throws his pillow at his roommate. The man dodges to the side and catches it with one hand, eyes all the while never leaving his laptop screen.

“He was going to _kiss_ me,” he continues, flopping over onto his stomach to hide his face in his arms. “He was going to _kiss me_ , Ahk, but _no_ , your stupid dog had to go and –”

At this point, evidently having finally had enough of his whinging, Ahkmenrah looks up from his paper, his eyes sparking with annoyance. At _last_.

“Why don’t you just _ask_ the guy to kiss you, if it means so much to you?”

Octavius practically bolts right off the bed.

“I can’t just do that!” he gasps, horrified. “We’ve barely _spoken_ about it since then – I can’t just _ask_ him to kiss me, do you have any idea how awkward that’d be?”

His roommate regards him with some measure of sympathy, shaking his head as he returns to his work. “People who feel attraction,” he sighs. “How you guys manage to function properly with all those hormones addling your brains, I will never know.”

*

Alright! Today is the day! Jedediah nods to himself as he kneels to let Able off his leash. He’s going to finally, _finally_ approach Octavius about the not-kiss. And potential future kisses. Possibly dates. Yep. He can do this. He’s got it all planned out.

“You’ve got my back, don’t you Abe?” he asks, petting the dog. “You’ll keep an eye out for Dexter for me, won’t you?”

Able pants and barks excitedly. Jedediah sure hopes that’s a yes.

“Attaboy. Now go on, get.”

Able darts off to say hello to his new lady friend, a friendly Border Collie pup, who has evidently caught his scent from the way she’s dashing off to meet him halfway. Puppy love. Heh.

He gets to his feet, wiping off his sweaty palms on his grass-stained jeans. It’s pretty obvious from the relative peace and quiet that Octavius is nowhere to be found. But that’s okay. That’s fine. He can chill. He’s cool. He’ll just watch Able and wait for him to show up. Because he can be patient. He can roll with this.

All he has to do is wait.

*

Welp. Jedediah is shit at waiting. A cursory glance at his watch reveals that barely half an hour has passed since he let Able off his leash. It feels like it’s been fucking _centuries_.

Exhaling noisily, he drags his hands down his face. _Dang it Jedediah_ , he grumbles to himself, _you have to be cool. Be cool, or you’ll panic, and then what’ll Octy think, huh?_

“Jed!”

He will maintain to his dying day that he didn’t yelp in alarm.

“Hi,” Octavius breathes, chest heaving slightly with exertion. Dexter’s red leash is wound loosely about his right wrist; the dog in question is nowhere to be seen.

“Got him off his leash alright, then?”

“Yep,” he says, chest puffing out proudly. “We’re beginning to reach a sort of understanding, I think.”  

“Good. That’s – good.” No. No it isn’t, because what if Octy finally tames the demon spawn and doesn’t need his help any more what will his excuse to talk to him be then this is not good _at all_ –

“Hey,” he blurts out, “remember when we talked about the whole pop culture thing?”

“Um. Yes?”

“Listen, so I thought about it and – I was wondering if you were free this Saturday? There’s this really good film in cinemas right now and, well –” Jedediah pauses, holds his breath for a moment, before letting it out through his teeth. “I thought you might like to catch it with me.”

Octavius blinks. “You mean – like a date?”

“It doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to!” Belatedly, he realises that his hands are up and in front of him, almost reaching out towards the other man. Fuck. So much for playing it cool. Jedediah shrugs in a half-hearted attempt to recover his composure. “We could still go see the movie as friends? But, y’know, if you wanted to make it a date, that’d be cool too.”

_Fuck_.

Another explosive sigh escapes his lips.

“I didn’t make it weird or anything, did I?” he asks, twisting the hem of his shirt with his hands. Presently, something else occurs to him; Jedediah promptly panics. “Fuck, please don’t tell me I misread the signals, because I really do like you and I’m fine with being friends ‘cos that would also be great and – oh god, are you even into guys, shit, I’m so sorry –”

“Hey – _hey_ –” Octavius reaches out and takes his hands. His brain promptly stops working.

“I’d love to go on a date with you,” he says. “Saturday, you said?”

*

Able fails his Dexter-watching duties and they end up having to rescue a little girl’s Yorkie from where it somehow managed to climb a tree, but Jedediah can’t wipe the stupid grin off his face. He has a date, he has a date with _Octavius_ , and holy _shit_ , he can’t wait for Saturday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive Jed's awkwardness in this chapter. I have been on a total of four dates that don't even really count as dates because it was all so vague. Like I don't even know if he was actually interested in me or if they were, like, friend-dates. I have no idea how to ask someone out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean for this chapter to take so long, but I got caught up in real-life stuff like camps and university matriculation. Sorryyyy :(

_Jedediah [17:37]_

AMES

_Jedediah [17:37]_

I HAVE A DATE

_Jedediah [17:37]_

QUICK WHAT SHIRT DO I WEAR

_Ames [17:37]_

oooh is this ur dog park mystery man

_Ames [17:37]_

i demand pictures and a full blow-by-blow recount :) ;)

_Jedediah [17:37]_

NOT HELPING

_Jedediah [17:37]_

JUST CHOOSE A FUCKING SHIRT OMFG

_Ames [17:37]_

the light blue one with the collar

_Ames [17:37]_

brings out ur eyes <3

_Ames [17:38]_

have fun!! don’t do anything i wouldn’t do!! <3

_Ames [17:38]_

able sends his love!!

_Ames [17:40]_

OH AND USE CONDOMS K <3 <3 <3 LOVE U

_Jedediah [17:40]_

Amelia

_Jedediah [17:40]_

What the fuck

*

They meet at the gates of the park, as has become part of their daily routine in the short time they’ve known each other.

“Hi,” says Octavius shyly, fiddling with the ends of his scarf. He’s all bundled up in a dark grey beanie and a black coat, the collar of his shirt peeking through a brown sweater.

“Hey yourself,” he stammers, shoving his hands into the pockets of his faded black jeans. Crap. He should have worn something better. Why did he think it’d be a good idea to pair this shirt and vest with these pants? Augh. He should’ve asked Amelia for her opinion on pants, too. And this _vest_. Why didn’t he just go with a regular ol’ jacket –

“You look nice,” Octavius murmurs; Jedediah promptly stops worrying.

“Able not with you today?”

“Left him with my neighbour,” he says, and _hey_ , that’s technically true. “You?”

“Dexter’s with my roommate,” he admits with a sheepish grin, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Well then, may God have mercy on his soul.”

The smile on his face grows just so; Jed’s heart flutters in his chest.

“So, how do you want to do this? Dinner first? Or the movie?”

“Movie first,” Octavius grins. “You’ve made me rather curious, you know. The suspense is _killing_ me.”

*

This is not how Jedediah wanted his date to go.

“Look, pal,” he says at last, letting out his breath with a long, aggravated hiss. “Can you just give me my tickets so I can pay and leave?”

“Whoa there, I’m just sayin’ bro, I don’t want you two fellas to waste your money on this shitty feminist propaganda, you feel me?” The man behind the counter puts his hands up in what he must think is a placating gesture. “Trust me on this one, dude – literally every other action flick is _waaaay_ more satisfying.”

“I don’t _want_ tickets for ‘Every Other Action Flick’,” he growls. Jedediah doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. He has been standing at this ticketing counter for _way too long_ , and if this greasy ass dudebro doesn’t shut up and give him the tickets for Mad Max in the next five fucking seconds –

“You sure you don’t want to see Ted 2 instead? It’s a great movie, good sense of humour, and this one blonde chick –”

Jedediah explodes.

“I’m not interested in your stupid misogynistic movies, okay? I couldn’t give any less of a fuck about animated teddy bears or your strange, sad obsession with policing the films I watch. I’m on a date here! Just give me my fucking tickets!”

Silence settles on the room as the man finally punches in their order. Jedediah realises belatedly that nearly every pair of eyes in the room is trained on them.

*

Jedediah is apologising to Octavius all the way past the popcorn stand and into the theatre.

“Octy, really, I’m so sorry –”

“What for?” he shrugs. “Really, it’s a good thing you yelled at him. I might have punched him instead, otherwise.”

“No, I – I didn’t mean ‘ta out you like that – I mean, I don’t mind people knowin’ _I’m_ into guys, but –”

“Jedediah, it’s fine.”

“Huh?”

“Most of the people I’m friends with don’t watch movies. Except for Ahk, and he mainly goes for gore and horror.” Here Octavius grimaces and shudders slightly, the ghost of a shadow passing over his features; then he smiles again, the tiniest upwards quirk of his lips. “I’m only ever going to come here with _you_. People would’ve caught on eventually.”

Jedediah stares at him blankly as the information sinks in.

“Wait, did you just imply –”

“Imply what?” Octavius’ cheeks are pink.

A silly grin creeps onto his face. “Nothing. Never mind.”

*

The lights dim, the screen flickers to life, and Octavius’ attention immediately turns to the moving images on screen. It’s the usual pre-movie spiel about turning off hand phones and how piracy is bad, mixed in with a couple of trailers that look promising and the odd Ricola advertisement. Jedediah glances over to Octavius every so often, taking in his reactions to the trailers and filing them away for future reference. Aliens and ghosts are no, the advertisement for Fantastic Four elicits a hum of interest, and Nick Jonas is met with a silent _what the fuck_.

Okay, so superhero movies. Marvel movies, maybe? Would Amelia lend him _Winter Soldier_ in exchange for one less coffee? Why did he leave all his DVDs back in Texas? Jedediah has a brief moment of panic before he remembers that Netflix is a thing that exists.

Then, at last, the curtains move back and the movie begins to play.

He sneaks a look at Octavius midway through the Citadel’s pursuit of Furiosa. If nothing else, he’s clearly captivated by the cinematics. For a brief moment at the beginning, he’d been worried that Immortan Joe’s heaving bulk and the scene with the mother’s milk had put him off the film completely – could you blame anybody, really? Ick. – but that seems to have passed.

 Octavius gasps in awe as the sand storm blares onscreen. Grinning, Jedediah settles back into his chair.

*

“That was _amazing_!” His eyes seem almost to sparkle with delight.

“It was, wasn’t it?”

“The character development, the progression of the plot – it was incredible! That bit, with the youngest girl, the brunette –” Octavius frowns and rubs at his forehead, gesturing vaguely with his other hand.

“Cheedo?”

“Yes, Cheedo – her growth as a person was so – _great_ , and they managed to capture it perfectly in just two scenes –” A strangled noise escapes from his throat.

“And here I thought you didn’t like movies,” he teases, falling into step with the lanky brunet.

“I like stories,” he counters. “And _that_ was a wonderfully told story.”

He could live with this, he thinks. He could live with the sparkle of mirth in Octy’s eyes, with his lopsided grin. Even if it means putting up with his hellhound. It’s a stupid notion, he knows – this is only their first date, and he’s only known him for what, three weeks? But he’s never clicked with anyone so fast or so easily before. Heck, he’s never wanted to, not this badly. Octavius… Octavius makes him _want_.

“I’m glad you liked it, anyhow,” he says instead, if only to send his train of thought down a different track. “’M a film student myself – warms my heart t’see people enjoy a good movie, ‘specially one as –” here he raises his hands, forming air quotes with callused fingers, “‘controversial’ as Fury Road.”

Octavius snorts. “It was a great film – how could anyone say otherwise?”

“Easy,” he sighs, footsteps coming to a halt. There’s a familiar silhouette at the traffic junction. “Be that guy.”

It’s the man from the ticketing counter, standing there in all his greasy dudebro glory, jabbing the button at the pedestrian crossing viciously as he talks into his phone. The wind blows snatches of conversation their way – “… yeah, bro. Can you believe it? Yeah, for a date – but then what’d you expect, eh? Couple o’ faggots like them…” – before abruptly tearing off in another direction.

At his side, Octavius bristles and makes to step forward, muscles in his arms tense as a coiled snake. For a brief moment, Jedediah fears that he might actually make good on his word to punch him in the mouth; reaching out, he grabs his hand, interlacing their fingers. “Forget it, Octy. He ain’t worth it.”

“Did you hear what he called us?” he splutters, outraged.

“I know, I know, but you punch him and then what? He goes home and tells all his dudebro friends how some fag off the street decked him for no reason? Trust me, it ain’t worth it.” He gestures at his nose with his free hand, tugging Octavius closer with the other. “What d’you think happened to my nose?”

Octavius blinks at him. It’s not adorable. Nope. Not at all.

“C’mon,” he says, tugging him closer; belatedly, Octavius seems to have realised that they are now holding hands, and a flush creeps up his neck. “Let’s just go grab dinner, alright?”

*

Dinner passes by in a blur of excited chatter and good-natured teasing. All too soon, it’s time to part ways for the night. Logically, Jedediah knows that he’ll see Octavius again when they next meet at the park, but he can’t help but wish for time to slow down all the same.

And there’s still the matter of Able. The end of the month is nearing soon.

Relationships are supposed to be based on honesty, right?

He walks Octavius home in silence, suddenly pensive.

Presently, the brunet clears his throat. “So,” he says, fidgeting with his sleeve, “you said you were a film student?”

“Mmhmm.” Jedediah shakes himself slightly and offers him a crooked smile. “It ain’t much, but it’s better than living on the ranch.”

“So – why film?”

“Because I want to change the world. Change what’s in the media, and you change public perception. If I can get more shows like Mad Max out in the world, pretty soon idiots like Dudebro back there will be the minority ‘nstead of us.” Here, he laughs, shaking his head slightly at the absurdity of his statement. “It’s dumb, I know, but a guy can dream.”

The silence that falls on them now is anything but awkward. It’s charged, electrifying – something flows through the air between them. He can hardly hold his breath.

“I’d like to kiss you now,” Octavius murmurs, taking a step closer. “Is that okay?”

Stunned, he nods dumbly, Octavius steps even closer, and – _oh_.

The kiss is brief and chaste, but something electric runs through his veins all the same, and Octavius’ cologne lingers in his nose as Jedediah pulls back. The lingering scent of sage and cedarwood, the look in his eyes, it all adds up to Jedediah leaning back in. This second kiss is longer, and wetter, and culminates in fingers buried in tousled blond hair, hands cupping bony cheeks and pulling each other closer by the hips. They only pull apart, blushing furiously, when a bunch of voyeuristic teenagers whoop in encouragement.

“You go, dudes!” One yells. “Rock on with your bad selves!”

“The fuck?” Octavius mutters, pulling off his beanie to fiddle with it.

Octavius is a mess. His hair is completely ruffled, his glasses are askew, and there’s a distinctly puffy look to his lips that has his chest swelling slightly with pride.

“Able isn’t really my dog,” he blurts out, thoughts still floating in a hazy post-kiss flurry. “I’m just walking him for my neighbour.”

There’s a moment when Jedediah can almost see the gears in his brain whirring to life – _regret regret **regret** augh jedediah you idiot – _then relief breaks upon Octavius’ face like the light of a dawning sun.

“Thank _god_ ,” he says. “I’ve always been more of a cat person.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, Walking the Dog(s) is done! Thank you to everyone for taking the time to read this, and I hope you enjoyed the fic :D


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